


Shelter Adventures

by Rivethart



Series: Bitty Reader Works [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 3rd pov, Adoption, Bitty Reader Adventures, Bitty Readers, Fluff, Gen, Non-reader centered, One-Shots, all AUs welcome, extras
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivethart/pseuds/Rivethart
Summary: Stories that take place in the Bitty Reader Adventures universe that fall outside of the 2nd POV format.





	1. Sweet Pumpkin Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where do baby Reader's come from? Well, when a mommy Reader and a daddy Reader love each other very much...

Where do baby Reader's come from? Well, when a mommy Reader and a daddy Reader love each other very much...

 

 

 

     “Pumpkin?”

            “Yeah?”

            “My stomach hurts.”

            “C’mere, hun. There ya go, that feel better?”

            “A little bit.”

            “Go back to sleep – I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning.”

            “Kay.”

            “Love you, Sweets.”

            “Love you too, ‘Kin.”

 

* * *

 

            Rivet was used to her Reader’s climbing up on the desk as she worked – it was why she had a ladder installed on the edge of her desk, after all. Still, the Brave Reader that clambered over the edge of the desk, nearly walking straight into a stack of papers, was not one she was expecting to see.

            “Good morning, Pumpkin.” She greeted him cautiously, noting the scowl on his brow and the tightness of his lantern jaw. The Brave Reader wasn’t normally aggressive, but he didn’t have a good history with monsters (he’d been rescued from a bitty fighting ring) and preferred to keep to the other Readers, far away from the deer.

            He scowled and didn’t return the greeting, instead getting straight to the point. “Sweets is sick,” he bit out, gaze focused just above her left shoulder.

            Ah, that explained the impromptu visit. Rivet immediately opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a small box, which contained the smashed remains of several pieces of monster candy. “What’s her favorite flavor?” She asked, popping open the top and holding it out to the Brave. He picked out one of the light-pink strawberry flavored shards and tucked it in the sleeve of his sweater. “Ah, I should have known.” Rivet chuckled and shut the box, replacing it in the drawer. Sweets, who’d lived at the shelter all her life, loved everything pink. “Make sure she eats that slowly, and get her a cup of water to sip on.”

            He muttered something that could have been an assent and moved to slide down the miniature fireman’s pole she’d installed beside the ladder. Rivet folded her hands in front of her to keep from patting the grumpy Reader on the head. “Try and keep her in bed today, m’kay? I know she likes to bounce around and be helpful, but she’ll get better faster if she sleeps some.”

            Pumpkin didn’t answer – he grabbed the pole and slid out of sight. Rivet turned back to her papers, and pretended not to watch him return to the pen and the doll house by the large bay windows that faced the street. She made a mental note to check on the couple later, then went back to the towers of paperwork beneath her pen.

 

* * *

 

            Sweets and Pumpkin, after confessing their feelings to each other, had taken up residence in one of the larger rooms of the largest doll house by the front window of the store. Since they were permanent residents of the shelter, nobody argued their claim, and they could spend time together on the large, comfortable bed. Or, if it was nice outside, they used the porch from their bedroom to climb onto the bay window bench and curl together on a pillow, watching the world outside go by.

            Now, Sweets was curled up in the very center of their bed, all the curtains drawn tightly so no light could leak into the dim room. Pumpkin frowned and shut the door behind him, shutting out the noise of the other Readers that were waking in the house. He sat slowly on the edge of the bed, making sure not to jostle it too much, and carefully rested a hand on the lump that was his mate.

            “Sweets? Hey, love, wake up,” he whispered, tugging a bit at the blankets over her head.

            “Nuuuuuh,” she muttered, rolling away from him and tugging her blankets back down. “Wanna sleep.”

            “Good,” he took a firmer grasp of the blankets, “But you gotta take your medicine first.” He gave a sharp tug, revealing Sweets tousled hair and bleary eyes. She stuck her tongue out at him, rubbing at her face. He rolled his eyes affectionately and tugged the shard of monster candy out of his sleeve. “Here, I got your favorite flavor.”

            Sweets normally loved sweets, but today the idea of sugar made her stomach roil. She wrinkled her nose but accepted the piece of candy. “Thanks, Kin.”

            “Of course, love.” Pumpkin sat at the top of the bed, propped up by some pillows, and tugged Sweets to his side, so she was laying against him. She made a pleased sigh and popped a shard of the candy in her mouth. Her mate sat and rubbed her back and shoulder as she ate the candy, the color returning to her cheeks as the magic healed what ailed her. She finished half the piece before setting it on the bed and nuzzling up to Pumpkin, using him as a giant teddy bear.

            “Sleepy.”

            “Is your stomach okay now?”

            “Yeah. Wanna sleep.”

            “Heh, okay. Sweet dreams.”

 

* * *

 

            “Again?”

            Rivet frowned as Pumpkin climbed onto her desk for the fourth time that week, heavy shadows under his eyes betraying his sleepless night. He shot her a flat look, and she didn’t press the issue. She pulled out the box and fished out a shard of pink candy. “I’m going to call Merriweather, see if she can visit today.”

            Pumpkin grunted, took the piece of candy and returned to the ladder. Rivet bit at the nails on one had as she watched him trek back to the doll house, shoulders slumped in exhaustion as he moved. This was a serious problem. She’d spoken to Sweets a few times over the past few days, and every time the little Reader had insisted she was fine, that it was just a bug. Four days was far more than a bug, though, and even if it _was_ just a bug, the monster candy would have kicked it to the curb in no time. If there was one thing that worried the deer more than anything else, it was the health and safety of her Readers.

            Merriweather, an elderly ewe with more energy and spunk than most young monsters, was the doctor to all the royalty in Ebott City. Alpha Clan Toriel, who had helped Rivet set up her shelter for Reader’s when she was still young, had given the ewe monster the important job of being the shelters ‘official Reader doctor.’ She was over at the shelter at least once a week to give new Readers checkups and injured or abused ones follow ups. Rivet adored the kind woman, and hoped she could visit. Sweets had been at the shelter for years, and if anything was to happen to her…

            Rivet shook her head, tugging on one of her ears sharply to banish the thought, and dialed Merriweather’s number.

 

* * *

 

            Merriweather Graze had light pink wool, just like cotton candy, and whenever she visited the shelter Sweets went out of her way to cling to the ewe’s soft fluff as she went about her business, claiming it was better than any pink pillow could be. Merriweather, on the other hand, adored Sweets ability to help her as she took care of the quiet and timid Readers. The compassionate Reader could calm anyone with a few quiet words and a well-placed hug or pat. The ewe had joked about adopting Sweets a few times, but had never truly considered it – Sweets was needed at the shelter, not in a little doctor’s office.

            _This_ was not the sweet Reader Merriweather knew.

            Sweets was curled up in bed, beneath a thick layer of blankets, sweat beading along her forehead. She’d been throwing up all morning, her defensive mate explained, keeping her in his lap and giving the doctor an ugly look.

            “Pumpkin,” Rivet scowled through the open wall of the dollhouse. She liked to give her Reader’s some semblance of privacy, but each room had at least one outer wall that was hinged and could be opened, in case of emergencies. Or, in this case, defensive mates. “You _know_ Dr. Graze is just here to help. Show some manners.”

            He huffed and puffed but didn’t bite the ewe as she reached out to poke at Sweets. The compassionate Reader gave her a strained smile.

            “Hi, doc.” She turned in Pumpkin’s lap, so her back was resting against his chest and his legs were on either side of her. Pumpkin draped his arms around her shoulders and across her collar bone, pulling her against him and kissing her head.

            “Hello, Sweets.” Merriweather slowly reached into room and rubbed the back of one finger against the Reader’s face, taking her temperature. “How are you feeling?”

            Sweets stuck her tongue out. “Sick.”

            “Well let’s see if we can fix that, shall we?” Ignoring Pumpkin’s growling, she gently pried Sweets from his arms and rocked back on her heels, bringing the Reader up to her face so she could examine her more closely. The ewe’s eyes began to glow with a sparkling, soft green light as she called on her healing magic, which swirled around Sweets before soaking into her skin, banishing the nausea and slight fever she’d been dealing with. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

            Sweets hummed in thought for a moment, sitting up straighter as the magic warmed her skin and banished the twisting knots in her stomach. “A month, maybe?” She guessed, then winced when Rivet, who was hovering behind the doctor, gasped.

            “A whole _month_? Sweets, why didn’t you say anything?” The deer demanded, looking horrified at being left out of the loop for so long.

            “My stomach only hurt in the morning,” she shrugged, nose wrinkling when Merriweather poked her slightly in the stomach, “and Pumpkin likes to sleep in, so most of the time I just slept through it.”

            “And it has been getting worse?” Merriweather asked, her eyes still glowing as she examined the Reader’s abdomen.

            Sweets frowned and poked at her own stomach. “Yeah, a lot worse. I’ve been throwing up and it hurts most of the time.”

            Merriweather made a pleased hum and lowered her hand, returning the Reader to the bed. Pumpkin, who was standing beside the bed now, rubbed her back and gave the doctor a tense look. “Well? What’s wrong with her?” He demanded.

            “Nothing.” Merriweather. “In fact, it looks like everything is going well.”

            Rivet stared at the doctor with her jaw slightly askew. “ _What_ is going well?” She demanded.

            Merriweather was tickled pink – literally, her cheeks flushed pink as the green magic faded from her eyes. “Why, Sweets pregnancy, of course!”

            Pumpkin stared at the monster with wide, amber eyes, which quickly rolled into his head as he collapsed beside his mate. Sweets gasped and leaned over the edge of the bed, shaken out of her own shock.

            “Rivet, I think he-“

            Her words were interrupted by a much louder thump as the addressed deer fainted dead away.

 

* * *

 

            Rivet held an ice pack against the goose egg on the back of her head and glared across her desk at the giggling Toriel and cackling Merriweather, who had just finished re-telling the rather embellished tale of the deer fainting away at the news that one of her Reader’s was, apparently, pregnant.

            Said Reader was sitting on a pillow on the desk, tucked against her mate, who had his hands resting on her abdomen as she sipped on some special tea Merriweather had made. Toriel was quick to get herself under control, covering her muzzle as she wrangled her laughter.

            “I’m sorry, my child,” she apologized, “It’s just, you’re the foremost expert on Readers – you’ve been caring for them for twenty years! Did you truly not know they could have children together?”

            “It hasn’t exactly come up before. Readers don’t find mates often, and even when they _do_ , they don’t have babies!” The deer tugged on one of her ears. “Stars, what are we gonna do?”

            Merriweather tutted the deer and patted Sweets on the head. “Honestly, Rivet, there’s no need to fret. Readers are creatures of magic, just like monsters. A pregnancy shouldn’t be any different between the two.”

            “I suppose,” Rivet grumbled, slumping so her chin was resting on the desk, bringing her eye level with Sweets. “How are you feeling, dear?”

            “I’m not the _deer_ , Miss Rivet!” Sweets quipped, any traces of pain from earlier gone. She passed her empty tea cup to Pumpkin, who set it on the desk surface before going back to cuddling her. The deer rolled her eyes but gave an appreciative chuckle. “But I feel better now, thanks to Dr. Graze!” She turned her big, pink eyes on the ewe. “Thank you Dr. Graze!”

            “Of course, Sweets,” the doctor beamed back, the little Reader’s happiness contagious.

            Toriel set her tea down and scooted closer to the desk, examining the beaming Reader. “How far along did the doctor say you are, child?”

            “About two months,” Merriweather answered for her. “I’m honestly surprised nobody noticed anything sooner.” She gave the Reader a stern look. “You shouldn’t hide your pain like that, Sweets. It’s not healthy.”

            Sweets ducked her head and muttered an apology, while Pumpkin shot the ewe a glare before going back to rubbing her stomach.

            “How long do you think the pregnancy will last?” Toriel drew their attention back to the matter at hand.

            “Well, the sharp pains Sweets was experiencing came from the SOUL forming a body for itself, so I’d say she’s about two-thirds through.”

            Rivet’s head shot up. “What?” She demanded. “A three-month gestation period? That’s – that’s so _short_!”

            Merriweather shook her head and tutted the young monster again. “Really, Rivet, it’s no surprise! Smaller magical beings tend to have shorter gestation periods than larger ones, and Readers are some of the smallest magical beings around. It makes sense that they would have a short pregnancy.”

            “But a month? That’s not nearly enough time to prepare for a new baby!” Rivet was now tugging at both ears.

            “Miss Rivet?” Sweets slid off the pillow and moved to rest her hands on the cold nose of the monster. “I’m, uh, sorry?”

            “Oh stars, Sweets, no, don’t apologize!” Rivet let go of her ears to hug the Reader against her cheek. “I’m so happy for you and Pumpkin! I’m just worried about things going wrong and you getting hurt.”

            “Nonsense,” Toriel huffed. “We won’t allow anything to happen, Rivet. Trust me, everything will turn out alright.” She leaned forward a bit, that grin curling along her muzzle again, “Soon, you’ll be a grandmother!”

            The cackling queen barely managed to dodge the half-melted ice pack Rivet flung at her head.

 

* * *

 

Monsters and other magical beings did not have babies the same way humans did. Reptile and amphibious monsters laid eggs, flame monsters sparked and spat using special tinder and kindling, and amoeba monsters split in half and celebrated having a twin. The more mammalian ones carried babies inside their bodies, the same way humans did, though without the uterus and mess.

            After two mates shared their magic (while in a safe, secure environment) and created a new SOUL, the carrier held the SOUL near their own as it grew. During the late second trimester, the SOUL detached and used their parents magic to create a small womb to form their body in, though a strand of magic still connected the two. There they would grow, until their body was prepared to survive outside their parent. Their SOULs would completely split and, through magical means (no messy blood or placenta like human births), the new life would come into being in their parent’s arms.

            Sweets was just starting her third trimester, and she wouldn’t eat anything that was sweet. She couldn’t stand the smell of chocolate or sugar, and when Pumpkin surprised her with a miniature cone of cotton candy, she had to push past him and rush into the bathroom to throw up. Completely contrary to her pre-pregnancy tastes, she wanted spicy – peppers, chili, curry, anything with a bite was fair game. She’d even stolen one of Rivet’s cinnamon scented candles for when she just wanted the smell.

            According to Merriweather, everything was going perfectly. She said the cravings were perfectly normal, and had to do with what nutrients and vitamins Sweets needed in her diet. She told them to trust Sweets body to know what it needed, and to call if anything came up. She’d given Sweets a sucker for being such a great patient, which she’d immediately handed to Pumpkin, looking faintly ill. The ewe had sent them off with a fond wave, before locking up her practice for the night. They’d taken the last slot in the evening, and it was growing dark as Rivet carried her two Reader’s back to the shelter.

            “Why’re all those cars on the street?” Pumpkin asked, keeping his arms wrapped around Sweets and avoiding touching Rivet as much as possible. In the past two weeks he’d become even more protective and defensive, never leaving his mates side and growling at other Reader’s when they’d approached. Sweets had to smack and remonstrate him several times to get him to back off when he snapped at their friends.

            “I dunno,” Rivet slowed her steps and examined the cars parked along the street across from the shelter. “Maybe it’s ladies’ night at Grillby’s or something.” She shrugged, too tired to really think about the mystery of the parked cars. Mobsy had been bothering her all week about _something_ ; he was being all secretive and refusing to say what. His little Reader, Indigo, was half-mute and no help at all, even if most of her Reader’s adored her.

            “If it’s ladies’ night, can you and me go?” Sweets joked, tugging on Rivet’s thumb. The deer hummed in thought, ear flicking, before sighing and shaking her head.

            “I’m afraid not, Sweets. We have to be responsible parents tonight.”

            “Aww…”

            Rivet chuckled as she came upon the shelter, the windows dim as she had left only the barest of lights on, knowing they’d be out late and not wanting to keep her early-bed charges up with the bright fluorescents. She unlocked the front door and pushed through it with a tired sigh, expecting the regular chorus of greetings from her charges, but there was only silence. She froze, and a shiver ran down her spine. Pink magic began to curl around her eyes and antlers at the unnatural silence of her shelter, and she pressed Sweets and Pumpkin to her chest to protect them from whatever threat lurked in the dark. Something moved, and she prepared to charge, taking a step forward and tensing her muscles-

            “SURPRISE!”

            The fluorescents flooded the large main room with light, nearly blinding the battle-ready deer and revealing a large crowd of people. The monsters magic immediately fizzled out at the shock, leaving her looking frazzled, hair standing on end and tangled in her antlers.

            “Wha-?”

            The shelter was full of monsters, their Readers, and her own Readers, all wearing silly party hats and throwing confetti. Papyrus and Blue, cradling Pipsqueak and Ducky respectively, both rushed up to her.

            “Miss Rivet!” The taller skeleton bellowed.

            “We heard the news!” His Swap Clan counterpart gushed.

            “Congratulations Sweets!” Ducky waved at her friend frantically from Blue’s bandana.

            “We brought you gifts!” Pipsqueak added, waving at a large pile of presents beside the desk. It had been swarmed by the un-adopted Reader’s, who were sitting on it and cheering along with the other monsters.

            “Uhh…” Both Rivet and Sweets stared at the gathered monsters, speechless, until Rivet spotted the banner hanging above the pen.

 

_CONGRATULATIONS SWEETS AND PUMPKIN!_

 

            “A baby shower?” Sweets brightened, clasping her hands in front of her. “Really, for me?”

            “Of course, Sweets!” Toriel pushed her way to the front of the two dozen monsters and swept both her and Pumpkin from Rivet’s grasp. “We all wanted to celebrate your wonderful news!” She took them over to the gathered monsters, who began taking turns congratulating her and leaving Rivet staring after them.

            “Ya look a bit shell shocked, sweet heart.”

            Rivet was so used to the various Sans’ that worked with her popping up that she didn’t even flinch. She sighed and glanced at the short monster beside her.

            “Hello Mobsy.” She ignored his muttering at the nickname. “Hello Indigo.” The little tattooed Reader gave her a wave from the mobsters’ front pocket. “If you’re here to drop same bad news, you may wanna wait.”

            “Nah, I’m not here to bother you,” Mobsy winked, hands in his pants pockets, perfectly pulling off the 1920’s mobster chic. Rivet noted, absently, that his brother Stretch was sitting in the playpen and that the Reader’s not on the presents were swarming him, chatting happily with the cheery mobster. She honestly could not figure out how he was a member of the most feared crime gang in the city. Deep down, beneath the casual curiosity, she hoped she’d never find out.

            “Then why are you here? Not to be rude, but we don’t really do the “casual friendship” thing, y’know?” Rivet crossed her arms over her chest and gave the skeleton a raised brow, waiting for an answer.

            “I’m just enjoying the party,” Mobsy answered, leaning back against the wall by the front doors. In his pocket, Indigo copied him, crossing her arms over the pocket and peering up at the two with dark violet eyes. After a moment she managed to croak, “Same.”

            “…I don’t believe you.”

            “Heh, smart girl.” Mobsy sighed, and Rivet narrowed his eyes.

            “My building. My home. My Readers. What are you up to?”

            “Just making sure everyone here is legit.” Mobsy rolled his shoulders in a lazy yet elegant shrug, tilting his head back so his fedora didn’t block his eyes.

            Rivet crossed her arms and leaned on one hip, giving him a look of complete disbelief. “Seriously? ‘ _Legit?_ ’ What are you, a middle school hall monitor?”

            “Me? Nah. Never went to middle school. I was too much of a _numb-skull_.” Mobsy tapped his skull with a fist, and Indigo made a strangled half-laugh sound. Rivet absently noted to give Mobsy some of the cough drops she had for Readers, before refocusing on the task at hand.

            “Why do you need to make sure my friends are ‘legit’?” The deer made air quotes around the word, a scowl showing her annoyance. “Everyone here is a friend or a client – someone I know, helped, and trust.”  
            “Trust can be bought,” Mobsy countered, countenance more serious now. “And if Gaster were to figure out that Readers can reproduce…” He left the sentence unfinished, while Rivet glanced over her shoulder at Alpha Gaster, who was currently struggling to hang a diaper-shaped piñata from the ceiling. “Not _that_ Gaster,” Mobsy snapped before she could make a smartass comment, “Insane Gaster.”

            “Nobody here would sell me _or_ my Readers out,” Rivet countered.

            Mobsy sighed. “I wish I could still have that kind of faith in people,” he waxed nostalgic for a moment, then returned his gaze to the present. “But I don’t. So, I’ll keep an eye on everyone here, and if a certain scientist begins to try and force Reader’s to breed, we’ll have a suspect pool to start from.”

            Wow, not a single pun in his explanation. He _was_ being serious. Rivet unfolded her arms and gave him a conflicted look. “Sans,” the use of his actual name made his eyes flick towards her, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” She rested her hands on his shoulders, “Really, I do, but this is a party. Let’s both try and not worry for a few hours, okay?”

            Mobsy glanced at her hands, then at Indigo’s begging expression, before nodding. “Fine,” he agreed, plucking Indigo from his pocket and stepping into the room, “Let’s party.” Grinning in victory, Rivet followed, wondering absently what he’d do if she managed to get one of those bright pink party hats super glued to his skull.

 

* * *

 

            Sweets was in tears, and Pumpkin was torn between comforting her and snarling at the surrounding monsters. He chose comfort and hugged his mate close, rubbing her back and brushing her hair from her face. The monsters around them continued to beam, chatting in the background. Couldn’t they see his mate was upset? The small, brave Reader wished he could knock all their heads together.

            “Thank you all so much!” Sweets sobbed, palming tears from her face. “You’re all such wonderful friends! Thank you!” She had a giant, sparkly pink bow from one of the gifts stuck to her head, and she had to push it out of her eyes to beam up at the gathered monsters and Readers. The pair were sitting on Rivet’s desk, surrounded by their Reader friends, while the monsters gathered around the only semi-clear surface in the room. Behind them all, Rivet tried to stack the ridiculous number of gifts to the side, without causing an avalanche.

            Sweets and Pumpkin had received everything imaginable – hand-sewn baby clothes, rattles and teething rings, miniature versions of popular monster children toys (like stacking rings and a little boat on wheels that moved in response to fledgling magic), a plethora of picture books and an easel to set them on so the Readers could prop them up and easily turn the pages (which were easily taller than Sweets and Pumpkin standing on top of each other!), and the _coup de grâce_ , a new house.

            Alpha Clan Mettaton, who often showcased Readers on his talk shows, had designed it himself and his friend Alphys had helped him build it. The house was bright pink with accents in bright orange, honoring the parents with the gaudy shades. It was three stories tall, with sweeping stairs and a working elevator. There were several bedrooms, a nursery, a play room, a kitchen, a parlor, and a large living space with a working television. Lights and water had been worked into the building, creating a working home for the new parents. It was all furnished, far more tastefully than the outside paintjob, with modern-looking furniture and hardwood floors. Both Sweets and Pumpkin had been speechless at seeing it, which Mettaton declared to be just as good as the expected tears of joy.

            Pumpkin, though he didn’t show it, was most excited over several shirts given to him by the various Sans that had popped in to say hello. They all had lame puns or dad sayings, such as _“I’m the POPS_ ” printed over a picture of popcorn, or over a picture of three whales, “ _Whale, whale, whale, what have we here?”_ The Sans declared that since he was going to be a dad, he had to learn the best of the dad jokes, and they promised to educate him whenever they dropped by. That had caused a cacophony of groans from most in attendance, especially the various Papyrus’ in the room.

            Sweets appreciated everything, tearing up when she saw the tiny clothes and toys, laughing when Pumpkin unwrapped his new shirts, and going speechless when Mettaton revealed their new home. Now, as the party began to wind down and the guests leave, she leaned against her mate, resting her hands over the new bulge in her belly. Pumpkin wiggled one of his hands beneath hers, rubbing circles around her belly button with his thumb.

            His thumb froze, and Pumpkin went stiff. “Stars! Sweets, did you – did you feel that?”

            Sweets grinned, snuggling closer to her mate and pressing his hand more firmly against her stomach. “Yeah,” she whispered, nuzzling his chin with her nose, “They know their daddy’s voice.”

            With a wide, silly grin wreathing his face, Pumpkin kept his hand on his mate’s stomach for the rest of the night, exclaiming in joy every time the baby kicked his hand.

 

* * *

 

            The new home (which Rivet had named the ‘Cotton Candy Manor,’ much to Pumpkin’s annoyance) was set in a corner of the main room, outside of the pen the other Readers lived in. It was close to Rivet’s desk, though not enough for her presence to be invasive. The entire front of the house slid out of the way to three floors of rooms. The wide house were sometimes two rooms deep in places, leaving only the foremost accessible to whatever Monster removed the wall. Sweets insisted the wall stay off, leaving the house accessible to Rivet in case of an emergency. She didn’t mention that it was also for Pumpkin, who didn’t like being in closed spaces for too long after being held in cages at the fighting ring. They did take one of the back bedrooms for itself, the one right beside the nursery.

            Sweets was in their bedroom now, enjoying a slice of what Indigo had called a ‘ghost pepper.’ Mobsy had been dropping by more and more the past few weeks, speaking with Rivet in hurried, hushed tones as Indigo visited the expecting couple in their new home. Every visit the Justice type brought a new kind of spicy pepper. They’d started with rather bland habaneros, and slowly built up to the infamous ghost pepper Sweets was now nibbling on. The spice and bite of the vegetable did nothing to her taste buds – to Indigo’s disappointment, Sweets had taken a bite and said she enjoyed the flavor. The Justice had shaken her head and patted Sweets head, before returning to her monster when he called.

            Pumpkin, who had been eavesdropping on the two, barely managed to avoid the Justice as she rushed past; he stepped to the side and watched as she leapt from the third floor of the house. Mobsy swore and caught her with his blue magic, scolding her as the two left in a flash of light.

            Pet Readers were _weird_.

            “How’re you feeling?” He plopped down on the bed beside his mate, instinctively resting a hand on her bulging belly. Sweets was constantly bemoaning that she felt like she was going to pop like a balloon, and he could see why – the skin over her stomach, where their child had created the magic womb, was stretched like a drum.

            “Tired,” Sweets set down the ghost pepper (after offering the grimacing Pumpkin a bite) and closed her eyes, resting both of her hands over his.

            “One more week,” Pumpkin reassured her, “That’s what Dr. Graze said. One more week and we’ll have our little one here with us.”

            “That’s so _loooong_ ,” Sweets groaned, shifting as the baby kicked. “I don’t know if I can last that long.”

            Pumpkin chuckled, taking his mates hands in his own. “You’re strong, Sweets. Stronger and braver than me. You can do it.” He moved the two of them, propping himself up at the head of the bed and gently pushing Sweets to lay down beside him, head resting on his chest. “Take a nap, I’ll wake you up for dinner.” As his mate made herself comfortable, Pumpkin kept one of his hands tangled with her own, his other arm thrown around her shoulders to keep her firm against his side.

            Not even an hour later, a sharp pain in his hand woke Pumpkin from a dream of dancing diapers and spinning cribs. He sleepily lifted his head and glanced down at his mate, thankful that Mettaton had working lights in all the rooms of the house. Sweets was on her side, tucked into his side, squeezing the life out of their joined hands.

            “Sweets?” Pumpkin straightened up and shook her shoulder a bit. The compassionate Reader’s eyes snapped open, and she looked up at him in confusion and pain. “What’s wrong?”

            She squeezed his hand again, shuddering as something rolled through her. “I – I think the baby’s coming,” she gasped through the pain. When Pumpkin didn’t answer, she glanced up to see the brave Reader had gone pale at her words. “Kin?”

            “What do I do?” He demanded, forcing off the shock.

            “I-“ Sweets was cut off by another roll of pain. The baby in her abdomen wiggled fiercely, stretching and kicking as they fought against their womb. “Hurts!”

            “Shh, shhh,” Pumpkin scrambled out of the bed, releasing his mate for a second so he could pile up the pillows at the head of the bed. He maneuvered Sweets so she was sitting propped up, able to bend over her swollen belly and breath. “Here, hold my hands.” He sat on his knees in front of her and took both her hands in his own. She immediately squeezed his fingers as another magical contraction rippled through her abdomen.

            “R-remember what Dr. Graze said,” Pumpkin did his best to keep his voice from shaking. “Just take deep breaths. T-the baby just needs to break his tether to your SOUL, then he’ll be here, in our arms.”

            “You,” Sweets hissed in pain, “don’t know,” she squeezed his hand tightly as another contraction rocked her, “it’s a boy.”

            “It doesn’t matter what it is,” Pumpkin squeezed her hands back, “We’ll love them no matter what.”

            “No matter what,” Sweets agreed, shivering. Inside her, something snapped. It wasn’t painful, but her SOUL suddenly felt a bit emptier than it had been before. A swirling glow of pink and orange formed above her abdomen, and the baby resumed their acrobatics after a moments rest.

            The birth seemed to take forever. By the end, Pumpkin was sure his hands would be black and blue. The baby continued to stretch their magic, working to break from the magical womb. In what felt like hours but was only half an hour at most, the womb broke, and a bright flash of gold light blinded the two parents. As their eyes cleared, a slight weight made itself known in their arms.

            Resting in Sweets lap, head lolling on Pumpkin’s arm, was a tiny baby Reader with his mother’s big, pink eyes and his father’s dark, curly hair. He looked at them curiously for only a moment, before shoving a fist into his mouth and giggling.

            “Oh my stars,” Pumpkin gasped, while Sweets merely grinned through suddenly teary eyes and stared down at their little baby. The baby kicked, then pulled his spitty fist from his mouth and shoving it in his moms’ face. She laughed and kissed the soft, smooth skin.

            For a moment neither parent moved, each content to simply watch the baby – _their_ baby – wiggle and kick and smile in between them. Eventually Sweets shifted and nudged the baby into Pumpkins arms. The shell-shocked father held the tiny baby carefully, marveling at the tiny fingers and toothless smile.

            “We should probably tell the others,” Sweets suggested, though she didn’t make any move to get off the bed. Her limbs felt like Jell-O and she was beyond exhausted, though the smile couldn’t leave her lips.

            “Later,” Pumpkin cradled the baby closer to his chest and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Later,” he repeated, moving so he was sitting beside his mate instead of across from her. He gently pressed the baby into her arms, then moved her into his lap so he could hold them both. “What are we going to name him?”

            Sweets cradled the baby close, one finger trapped in his little fist as he yawned and snuggled close to his parents. The poor thing was as worn out from the birth as his mother was. The compassionate Reader hummed, shifting her leg and knocking the remains of the ghost pepper she’d been snacking on to the floor. “How about…Spice?”

            “Spice?” Pumpkin snorted, grinning widely as he rested his chin on her shoulder, peering down at the baby with unadulterated adoration. “Sweets and Pumpkins’ little Spice, huh? I like it.” He kissed her cheek, then leaned forward and kissed the baby’s forehead.

            Sweets kissed him back, then turned her attention to their miracle. “Welcome to the world, Spice.” She nuzzled his head. “It’s already a better place with you in it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throw a life saver! I'm drowning in fluff!
> 
> Well, that was fun. Sorry for the delay, like I mentioned on tumblr I lost a family friend last week and it's been a bit hard to write. Thank goodness for the opportunity to write fluffy fluff fluff!
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed with a kudo or comment! I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the baby bones arc, I have some more planned out/half-written. Trying to work on a DMAB (cause let's face it, I tend to write my 'gender neutral' Readers are female, simply because I am one) Reader running into Undyne, as well as a ghostly Reader meeting Napstablook. I'm excited to share them!
> 
> Cheers, all!


	2. Too Many San I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivet thought she could trust Mobsy to watch over her Readers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha Sans - Toby Fox  
> Reaper Sans - @renrink  
> Error Sans - @loverofpiggies  
> Beats (Dancetale Sans) - @dancetale  
> Lust (Lustale Sans) - @nsfwshamecave  
> Edgy (Violent Underfell) Sans  
> Mobsy (Mobtale Sans) - @nyublackneko  
> Red (Less-violent but still a buncha jerks Underfell)  
> Stretch (Swaptale Paps)  
> Fresh (Freshtale Sans) - @loverofpiggies  
> Stars (Outertale Sans) - @outertale  
> Geno (Aftertale Sans) - @loverofpiggies

            Most people would agree that Sans was a perfectly fine monster. Most iterations of him were intelligent, clever, charming, funny, and kind. Many of the clan Sans worked at the Royal Labs, alongside the many Gaster and Alphys employees. Others were professional comedians or, in the case of the Dancetale Clan, professional dancers. On weekends, it wasn't unusual to see hot-dog and hot-cat stands popped up where there had been none the day before, on street corners or in the parks, snow clinging to the shingles even in summer. It was not unusual for the Sans to pair up in order to pull pranks on their Papyrus (or any Papyrus/Undyne/Mettaton in the vicinity), to the point that Asgore had declared April 1st a city holiday before locking himself in his office to avoid the Sans and their rampant pranking.

            Sans was well-liked, well loved, and well-known.

            If he wasn't so incredibly irritating, obnoxious, and the master of badly-timed jokes, Rivet might like him too.

            Said deer wasn't in the mood to like anybody at the moment, however. She'd just spent five hours with Mettaton, shooting and re-shooting a segment on Reader's for his Sunday-morning talk show. He'd demanded perfection, and had pushed her until pink magic began to curl her antlers into a dangerously-sharp instrument of headbutting. Mettaton's own Readers, Bonnie and Clyde, hadn't been much help - they'd been too busy snuggling and kissing each other to really pay attention to the show, and had constantly interrupted both monsters during the script.

            The only reason Rivet had left her shelter for the evening had been because it was beginning to get a bit crowded. The ninety-six Reader's Mobsy had brought in a few months before had flooded her shelter, and with new Readers appearing all the time the small space was getting overwhelmed. There were about seventy Readers there now, thanks to a semi-successful adoption event a few weeks ago, but it was still crowded. Hopefully the special would send a wave of interested monsters her way, and she could get them into good homes. She'd actually used that to guilt Mobsy into watching her shelter for the evening, promising to be back by midnight.

            It was nine o'clock now, and Rivet had managed to beg off going to a later dinner with the hyper robot and headed home. She figured Mobsy would be relieved to be let off early – he loved his little Indigo (even if he would never admit it), but tended to intimidate the other Readers. That, and who knew what mob-y things he had to deal with tonight.

            The windows and front door of the shelter were dark, signaling it was closed, but Rivet could see light seeping out from beneath the door. The security-spelled door didn't block _all_ the light, then. She'd have to mention that to Aaron at the hardware store next time she went. The deer dug her keys from her pocket and hummed to herself as she opened the door. Her smile immediately disappeared.

            At the head of the fold-up card table Mobsy, looking cool as a cucumber, tilted his chair back and set his hand down on the table, face-down so Edge and Red (who were sitting on either side of him) couldn't cheat. The fact that there were two different Fell Clans (one far more violent than the other) never ceased to baffle Rivet, but it was not the time to dwell on it. Beside Edge, Sans of the Lust Clan (creatively nicknamed Lust) was chatting eagerly to a dozing Beats of the Dance Clan. Beats had his headphones on, and was nodding off and on along with the song while completely ignoring his counterparts tales of conquest. On Beats other side sat Error Sans, an anomaly who didn’t belong to any one clan but instead popped up whenever he felt like it. He had his weird blue strings wrapped around his cards and was stacking them neatly into a little card house. Next was Death of the Reaper Clan was sipping on a cup of Spiderbucks while tapping away on his cellphone. Sans – Alpha Sans, the only one who actually _went_ by Sans – sat at the far end of the table, seeing if he could slide his hand of cards between the thin spaces of his radius and ulna.

Geno, a rare permanent member of the Geno clan, sat across from Death, eyeing him hesitantly as he tapped his cards against the table. Stars, from the Outer clan, sat beside him, chatting about a meteor shower he had seen between bites of what looked like freeze-dried astronaut food. Fresh, dressed in brightly colored clothes and a pair of sunglasses with 'YO-LO' written across the lenses, was hunched in the seat beside him. He had a Tab soda in front of him, and one of those little skateboards that was meant for fingers. He was using his cards and some odds-and-ends to perform some tricks, muttering the words 'sick' and 'rad' to himself at times. Beside him, Stretch very quietly and slowly tried to hide his cigarette, taking it from his teeth and attempting to discreetly tuck it into his hoodie pocket.

            The long fold-out card table was covered with poker chips and Readers. Almost all of her Readers, if she was counting right. It looked like the only ones not on the table were the Timids, Shys, and Quiets. Each skeleton had a handful of Readers in front of them, while others sat on chips in the middle. Some were even holding the Sans' cards, whispering about what they should do. At least fifty of them, all looking thrilled at being up late and involved in the skeletons shenanigans.

            "Are you _betting_ with my _Readers_?!" Rivet dropped her bag and all the skeletons, even the dozing Beats, snapped upright and looked at her.

            "Oh, **SIT**." Edge said, then shot a glare at Fresh, the only one who didn't look panicked at the deer's early return. Well, aside from Death, who had stopped his texting and was instead recording what was certain to be a rousing tongue lashing.

            "Mobsy," Rivet shut the door sharply and clicked the lock before stomping forward. "What the **HALIBUT** is going on here?" She paused, teeth clicking as she shut her mouth. She had certainly not been trying to say _halibut_.

            "Hey brah, there's no need for that kinda un-rad language, ya dig me?" The flashy skeleton glanced up, his grin stretched far too wide.

            Rivet rubbed at her throat, rage stopped at having her voice censored. "How did you…?"

            "Ain't no biggie," the skeleton shrugged, going back to his mini-skateboard tricks. "But we don't need to be dragging down the all up righteous vibes of this whack game, yeah?"

            Oh right, the game. Rivet could worry about Fresh's censorship habit later. She turned her glare back on the well-dressed skeleton. Mobsy was staring at her coolly, an unlit cigar between his teeth.

            "We're teaching them math," he offered, sounding unwaveringly confident in his answer. It was easy to see how the skeleton survived his enemies 'interrogations.' Red and Edge both snorted, and several of the Readers laughed. If she wasn't so mad, Rivet would have laughed too.

            "You're not _supposed_ to be teaching math," she growled, "You're supposed to be _watching the shelter!"_

            "Why can't we do both?" Stretch had finally gotten his cigarette out of sight and mind, though the smell of smoke still lingered around him. His Reader, Ducky, was sitting on his shoulder, eyeing his set of cards sternly, trying to guess if they had a winning hand or not.

            Rivet pinched the bridge of her muzzle and took a deep breath. "Because eleven of you aren't even supposed to _be_ here!"

            At the head of the table, Sans laid down a royal flush and began to rake in the nearest poker chips and Readers. Several giggled and flopped over his arms as they were moved. "Who isn't supposed to be here?" He asked lightly, helping a Curious balance themselves with his thumb. His own Reader, Pipsqueak, snatched up the plastic poker chips and stacked them on top of his already considerable horde. "Didn't you have _Sans_ watching the shelter tonight?" He flicked his gaze to the deer and admired the pink flush growing along her cheeks.

            "I had _Mobsy_ watching the shelter tonight."

            The Sans all paused, eleven of them looking at the Mob Clan Sans, then burst into laughter.

            "Mobsy?" Lust crowed, smacking the table with his hand. "That's **FUNK** hilarious!" His laughter stuttered to a stop and he frowned at the flashy skeleton.

            "That is _really_ annoying, Fresh." Stretch pointed out to the monster beside him through his own chuckles.

            "I'm just doing our fly female friend a solid." Fresh winked at Rivet, then did an ollie on his finger skateboard. "It ain't cool to have that un-fresh language round these dudes and dudettes little ears." He stuck the landing, then tried to do a 360 spin.

            "They've heard worse," Mobsy drawled, pointing at Fresh with his cigar between his fingers. He was really working the mob-boss angle tonight. His odd counterpart ignored him, using his empty can of Tab as a ramp for his pretend skateboarding.

            "ANY-way," Sans interrupted, taking back the conversation, " _Mobsy_ , here," another round of snickers, "Invited us over to help watch your kiddos." He gestured to the Readers. "But Saturday is our poker night, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone and teach the bitties some math." He looked down the table, grinning at the sight of the Reader's conspiring with the skeletons to win the next hand. "They're enjoying themselves, right guys?"

            A loud chorus of assent almost had Rivet deflating. Almost.

            "Be that as it may," she drew back her shoulders and stood stiffly, "I did _not_ give Mobsy permission to invite over _anybody_ , and I certainly didn't say he could teach my charges to _gamble_."

            A tall, thin Reader dressed in a dark yellow sweater cleared his throat and stepped forward, adjusting his glasses as he peered up at her past Mobsy's teetering stack of poker chips. Internally the deer groaned – Specs was one of her permanent residents, and one of the smartest beings she'd ever met, including all the Sans. Not to mention his silver tongue. Once he took it up on himself to argue for something, she found it incredibly difficult to argue or say no.

            "Miss Rivet," he greeted her with a warm smile, contrary to the calculating gleam in his eyes. The deer readied herself to fight his beguiling words and ward off his charm. The skeletons around the table had gone quiet, sensing that whatever was going to happen next would be both entertaining and hilarious.

            The explosion was neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving in and posting this story in more than one part. I've been absolutely swamped with the last of my homework (all due on Monday!), including two large papers and several smaller but time-consuming assignments.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Once I'm on winter break I plan on writing a lot to make up for the past few months.
> 
> Cheers, all you beautiful people!


	3. Too Many Sans II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight begins!

            Several minutes had passed by the time the ceiling came back into focus. Rivet was lying on her back, ears ringing, vision partially-obscured by the card table she'd landed half under. People were yelling, but the noise was blurred as her magic tried to recombobulate itself after the knock to the head. And back. And legs. And _everything_.

            By the time she managed to sit up, wincing as her bruised tail hit the leg of the table, half the Sans were gone, as were all the Readers from the table and most of the front wall of the shelter. Gray monsters, seeming oddly _dim_ in the sputtering fluorescents clinging to the ceiling, danced about, firing bullets and snarling at the remaining skeleton monsters. There were at least a dozen of the beasts, all trying to get into the shelter, only to be held back by walls and waves of bones. Behind them, slightly obscured by the smoke and dust, were three tall figures

            Rivet used the table to get to her feet, freezing when a syringe-shaped bullet whizzed over her head. Alpha Sans and Stretch were dancing around the gray monsters, pulling each other out of the way while dodging bullets before landing their own blows. To the right, among the ruins of the small shop-center, the terrifying duo of Edge and Red were tearing into another group of Grays, drawing far more dust than their counterparts as they fought off the imposers. To the left, closest to the pen, Mobsy and Death were using their combined power to keep a fence of bones (some dark and cracked, some black as ebony but lacking any shine) up.

            Behind the pen, part of the wall had fallen on top of the short shelves and doll houses, and Rivet's stomach lurched as she remembered, quite clearly, seeing some of the quiet Readers peeking out from the windows when she first came in. The quiet, the timid, the shy – the few that hadn't wanted to engage with the boisterous poker game were in one of the houses, the one closest to the wall, the one beginning to crumble beneath the weight of the drywall.

            Without conscious thought, the deer threw herself forward, scrambling beneath a barrage of more syringe-shaped bullets and tripping over the low wall around the pen. She landed on her front, hard, and wanted to curl up and cry – the explosion had _definitely_ bruised some of her ribs. Ignoring the pain, she army-crawled toward the crumbling doll house. Inside, there were flashes of blues and greens as the quiet, timid, and shy Readers recovered from the shock of the explosion and battled with the question: which was safer? Inside the disintegrating dollhouse or outside among the warring skeletons?

            "Out!" Rivet barked when she reached the house, tearing the little wooden front door off its hinges. "Quick!" Eight Readers obediently tumbled over themselves to escape the house, running into Rivet's arms and clinging to her sweater. Just before she pulled away to scoop them up, away from the danger, the deer was certain she saw an acid-green halo of magic around the bit of wall hanging from the studs. It vanished before she could be sure, and the wall collapsed, squishing the dollhouse flat. The Readers in her arms cringed, and she made sure they were pressed firmly against her chest with her arms as she stood.

            "Hart!" Mobsy stepped back, allowing Death to summon his odd chained-scythes and take a smack at the gray monsters, "Get out of here!" He scowled at the Readers in her arm.

            "But-"

            "Protect them!" He snarled, jabbing a finger at the back of the shelter, where beyond her private room was a back door, before turning to rejoin the fray. Rivet really, _really_ didn't want to listen – this was her home, her livelihood. The shelter was supposed to be a safe space for monster and Reader alike, and these Grays had ruined it. She wanted to throw around a few of her own bullets, but one of the Readers – the one closest to her hand – bit her thumb.

            "Hey-"

            "He said run!" Sweets - dear sweet Asgore, _SWEETS?!_ – had bitten her, and was cradling little Spice against her chest. In all the confusion, Rivet hadn't even realized she'd been one of the eight in the dollhouse. The glare on the mother's face put Mobsy's angry expression to shame, and Rivet immediately charged towards the backroom, holding the little ones tight. She channeled her rage into her bullets, spinny pink spirals of sharp antler-like discs, and destroyed the door before she was within a foot. The bullets just as easily cut through the back door, letting in a rush of cool night air and an outlet for the growing smoke.

            The back yard had been, thankfully, spared. The enclosed space had a brick patio extending into a wild tangle of grass and wild flowers. Along the sides of the privacy fence were more organized flower beds and bushes, and in the far corner a tower tree covered nearly half the yard with its heavy branches. To the left of the shelter was a large gate, which led to the alley that backed all the shops and stores on the street. Rivet, thanking her deer-monster genes, took a running start and leapt gracefully over the gate, then landed on the side of her hoof and had to turn and land on her back to avoid squishing the Readers in her arms. They cried out in alarm when she squeezed them a bit, but none of them seemed hurt.

            On the far side of the building, chaos was erupting. Smoke and dust curled above the flat roof, obscuring the street lights and casting odd shadows. Bright lights of every color created a rainbow of miniature fireworks as bullets collided and dissipated in excess magic. Yells and swears filled the street, most of them coming from the two Fells.

Cradling the bitty creatures in her arms (and wishing she had sixteen spare hands to cover their ears), Rivet scrambled to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. After sprinting past Muffet's Cafe and Miss Buns Bunnery, she steered towards the street, hoping to find one of her neighbors curious about the noise and poking their heads out.

Surprisingly, she found the entirety of the streets Grillby's peeking out, half-sloshed monsters wondering about the noise and lights. The bartender himself was standing close to the front doors, making sure none of his tipsy customers decided to try and 'help.' Beside him was his husband, Gaster (cheerfully nicknamed 'Dadster' by his friends), who was holding one of their newly adopted sons in his arms. The other was clinging to his leg, glaring at the noise. On his shoulder, dressed in an identical blue hoodie with soft fur trim, was their Reader, Silver.

            The couple seemed surprised to see the deer emerge, covered in soot and cradling eight shell-shocked bitties and one itty-bitty baby that was, somehow, fast asleep. The deer, however, was ecstatic.

            "Grillby! Oh thank stars!"

            Before he could say anything, Rivet began passing him the shy, quiet, and timid Readers, helped by Sweets, who juggled her baby and helping the others transfer arms as best she could. The bartender went rigid, drawing his arms close to his chest so the Readers could stand or sit on them and hold onto his vest for balance.

            "Miss Hart, what in the world is going on?" Gaster demanded, shifting Papyrus onto one hip. The little one immediately made grabby hands at Sweets, who allowed herself to be handed over to the child. The little adopted skeletons were frequent visitors at the shelter, always happy to play with the Readers as Rivet and their fathers spoke about boring, grown-up science-y stuff.

            "Not sure yet," Rivet made sure Grillby had a firm hold of her charges, then turned and ran back down the street, towards the battle at the far end, only to nearly be run over by a row of Royal Guard cruisers.

            The silver SUVs, trimmed with purple, slid to a screeching halt near the cloud of dust hovering around the shelter. Armored guards leapt from the vehicles, everyone from Undyne (both Alpha and Fell), Swap Alphys, and a host of dogs with wagging tails and heavy-duty armor. The smoke and dust around the half-demolished building seemed to pause for a moment; even the lights slowed to a stop as attacks were halted.

            Alpha Undyne barked an order to a wispy-looking officer, who in turn rose his arms and created a complicated pattern with his hands. A wave of air rushed down the street, rattling windows and shop signs as it went. The smoke and dust around the shelter was blown away, leaving only the half-destroyed building and six panting Sans in its wake.

            "Where's the prick?" Edge demanded loudly, jumping about like a hare about to throw down with a cheating tortoise. Beside him, Red prodded at his teeth, frowning when his gold one wiggled a bit too much. Sans and Stretch leaned against each other, both sweating and looking exhausted, though their eyes were sharp as ever. As the last of the smoke cleared Mobsy whipped out his cell phone and began to speak rapidly to someone on the other end in an odd, clicking language. Beside the remnants of the pen, Death summoned his scythe, leaned on it, and got out his phone to check his Facebook.

            "Alright, which one of you punks is to blame?" Undyne demanded as she strode up, removing her helmet and posing dramatically. Her good eye immediately slid over to examine the two Fells, who bristled at the obvious profiling.

            "It wasn't them, Undyne," Sans straightened some, and pulled a miniature bottle of ketchup from his jacket pocket. He downed half of it in one gulp before continuing. "Hard to believe, I know." With a lazy motion he ducked the red-tined bone thrown at his head. "It was that Insane Doctor Gaster and a bunch of his followers."

            The fish's lips curled in distaste. "Him again?" She sneered, then peered past him at the destruction. "Shit. Are the Readers okay?"

            "Yeah," Sans reassured her, "Luckily we were having a poker night."

            "We?"

            "The Sanses." Stretch leaned on Sans, easily able to rest his arm on the shorter skeletons head. "You missed a real party, it was _Sansational_."

            "Yeah, up until Gaster decided to be an _ass-ter_ and blow it all sky high." Sans spoke through his forced chuckles.

            "Can it, bonehead," Undyne paused, then pressed her teeth together. "Ssss. Bonehead- _s_." She looked at the other officers, most of whom were securing a perimeter or sniffing for clues. "Is it worth starting a search for this guy, or does he do that teleporting thing most of you do?" She eyed Alpha Sans wearily.

            "He's long gone by now," Mobsy answered instead, shutting off his phone and shoving it back in his pants pocket. In his breast pocket, Indigo hissed and clutched her scalpel to her chest. Undyne raised an appreciative brow, smirking, before sobering.

            "Great. You guys sit tight – I'll need to get your statements before you leave. Was anybody else here?" Undyne pulled her smartphone from her pocket, along with a thin-tipped stylus for writing.

            "Yeah, six other Sanses," Stretch grinned, "Like I said, it was a real party." He knocked on Sans head, making a hollow echo like a too-tight drum.

            Undyne rolled her eye and opened a notepad app. "Right. What Clans?"

            Mobsy swept in before the others could begin making puns again. "Dance, Outer, Lust, After from Geno, and both Error Sans and Fresh Sans."

            Undyne jotted down the names, the skin above where her nose would be wrinkling. "Right, I'll get people out to question them."

            "Don't bother," Mobsy waved a hand in her direction, "I have to see them all later today, I'll ask if they saw anything different than what we tell you."

            Swap Alphys, who had been listening in from a few feet away, snorted. She wasn't a fan of the Mob Clan – saw them as vigilante interlopers out to steal the glory that rightfully belonged to the Royal Guard. "What, can't stay away from your boyfriends that long?" She asked, raising a brow.

            Mobsy gave her a wide grin, making sure his fangs were clearly visible. "No. The others risked their lives to save the Readers. Rivet and I will have to go collect them." He nodded over the officers' shoulders, to a spot a few yards from the building, where Rivet stood.

            The deer was gob smacked – she gazed at the ruined remains of her home, jaw agape and ears drooped as low as they could go. One of the officers accidentally bumped into her as he passed, and she didn't even acknowledge him – she only had eyes for the destruction.

            "She hit her head pretty hard," Red mentioned, eying her from the side as he continued to wiggle at his loose tooth. "Probably has a concussion." He mused. Beside him, Edgy nodded as he examined his own battle scars.

            "Saw the bitch take a tumble outside too," the heavily-injured skeleton chuckled, "jumped right over the fence but couldn't stick the landing."

            They all watched thoughtfully as the wind monster from before escorted the shocked deer to the ambulance that had just screeched up. The deer resisted for a moment, before a stronger monster _firmly_ suggested she come with them for some healing magic.

            "Now what?" Stretch asked when the ambulance screeched away. He had pulled out a cigarette and was puffing away at it, eyeing the destruction with weary eyes.

            "I ain't a fucking maid." Edge growled. "Damn deer doesn't even like me." He vanished in a flash of red magic. Red shrugged at the others before vanishing as well.

            "I've got to get back to work," Death flicked through his phone, "Dead souls aren't going to collect themselves." He disappeared without an ostentatious flash, simply vanishing like a whisper of wind.

            As Undyne turned to create a game plan with Alphys, the three remaining Sans turned to each other.

            "Brothers?" Stretch asked, eyeing the mess.

            "Brothers." Sans confirmed, feeling the Sloth of Laziness cling to his back as he looked around at the disaster. "Pizza?"

            "Pizza," Mobsy agreed. "Then we find this son of a bitch and tear his damn throat out."

            In his pocket, Indigo made a noise of agreement, waving the scalpel and glaring at the destruction of Rivet Hart's Itty Bitty Reader Shelter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of hopefully three! Struggled a bit with how to write this one - had three different openings written, but I like this one the best. I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> The next chapter: Sans Clan Shenanigans!
> 
> Cheers, all you lovely lovely people! Thanks for the kudos and comments! :D
> 
> (Also, I was officially accepted into the Student Teacher program, so after this spring I'll be a full fledged teacher! Tremble in fear, middle school social studies students! Mwahahaha - *cough* I mean, I'm so happy!)


End file.
